Spoiled Brat
by mes-obsessions-89
Summary: WARNING: This is a tickle torture fic. That's all it is. If that's not your thing, move on. Jefferson's getting really sick of Hamilton's constant attention hogging at company meetings, and he decides to do something about.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first attempt at a tickle fic. I'm taking requests if anyone wants something specific!**

All the perfect circumstances were in place, and only a little bit of help from Madison was needed. Now, Thomas obviously hadn't told his friend his entire plan; James would think he was insane. But something deep down told Thomas his plan would work, and he could have some fun while he did it. It was no secret to anyone who worked under Washington that Hamilton frequently slept on the clock. It wasn't often; he only napped when things were uneventful and the he had nothing to do for the day. Today was one of those days. Thomas peaked his head into Hamilton's office, making sure to be as quiet as he could be. Surely enough, there was Hamilton with his head resting on his arms, peacefully snoozing. Thomas gave the sleeping man a smirk before softly closing the door behind him. Perfect.

Washington was out for a meeting that day. Also perfect. That meant there would be nobody around to interfere with any... mischief that could take place. The rest of the employees worked on the lower floors, essentially leaving only Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, and Madison with their own offices on the top floor. All Thomas had to do was ask his companion for a favor, and James was on his merry little way back to Thomas's house, a good half hour drive either way.

"Good morning, Alexander," Thomas said cheerfully as his coworker opened his eyes.

Alexander was immediately annoyed, but went to stretch only to discover that his hands were bound behind his chair by what appeared to be his own belt. "Jefferson, what the hell is this?" He asked upon realizing his feet were in a similar position, bound by another belt.

"Just a little bit of fun," Thomas answered, taking the spare seat and propping the smaller man's feet up on his lap. "For once, I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen."

"Is this some sick fetish of yours?"

"Mm, not necessarily. But I'm still going to enjoy it." He began to take off Hamilton's boots, teasing Alex for the heels. "Trying to feel taller, Hamilton?"

"Why are my shoes off?" Alexander asked, suddenly feeling slightly nervous about what his nemesis had planned.

Thomas ignored the question. "So, you know how Washington always takes your side? And you just jabber so nobody else can get a word in?"

The younger man nearly snorted. "Mr. Washington takes my side because my ideas don't suck, unlike yours."

"Tsk. You're in no position for that kind of attitude, Hamilton." Just like that, Alex's socks were gone, joining his shoes on the floor.

Before Alex could question this, two of Thomas's fingernails began slowly travelling down the sole of one foot. He giggled in spite of himself, yanking his feet off his coworker's lap. "What are you doing?!"

"Don't tell me you aren't familiar with tickling, Hamilton. You're not that stupid." Jefferson pulled the other man's feet back onto his lap, keeping ahold of the belt to stop him from escaping. He lightly spider tickled as he explained, "It's just a little persuasion tactic. You're going to shut up at the next company conference. Let someone else take the cake... An underappreciated marketing president, for example."

"I'm go-ohohohoing to te-hehehehell-" The laughing man struggled to get his sentence out, wiggling in his chair desperately.

"Going to what? Tell Mr. Washington?" He jeered. "Tell him what? That I tied you up and tickled you? No, he won't believe that. Daddy won't help you out of this one, you spoiled brat." He paused his assault on Alexander's feet to pick up a long, feather quill from the desk. "Recognize this?"

"You went through my desk! You're so dead," Alex protested, which went unacknowledged by his attacker.

"Why do you even have one of these things? We have pens, Hamilton, get with it," Thomas rambled, using soft tip of the feather to tease his victim's arches.

Alexander squirmed anxiously, but wasn't laughing yet. "Jefferson, this is ridiculous. Just let me go."

"We've barely had any fun yet, Alex," Jefferson ran the feather between two of his toes, earning a surprised squeak from the smaller man. He repeated the motion several more times before he turned the feather around and attacked Alex's soft soles with the quill end, reducing his enemy to a squirmy, giggly mess.

"This isn't funny!" Alex forced out through the laughter. He was kicking and spinning a little in his swivel chair, but Jefferson had his feet held tightly. Curse his having the same build as a spaghetti noodle.

"Actually, I find this quite funny. And you obviously agree, since you're laughing." Thomas smiled as he continued to assault Alex's feet, eventually abandoning the quill in favor of his own fingers.

Poor Alex was forced to laugh until his face turned red and he was gasping for breath before Thomas would allow him a moment of rest.

"Just tell me that you won't be a little bitch at our next conference, and this could all be over."

"Fine!" Hamilton agreed immediately, desperate for a way out. "I'll let Washington accept your awful ideas!"

Alex briefly received a dirty look before Thomas's fingers went back to his feet, immediately going to his most ticklish spots there.

"You know, I offered you an escape. It's almost like you _enjoy_ this, We can do this for the next hour if you'd like." Jefferson's gibe sounded like an honest threat.

Alexander was half-regretting his childish jab at the other man already. His remorse only grew when his opponent produced a bottle of baby oil from under the chair and screwed the cap off.

"I almost feel bad for this. But not really." Thomas held Alexander's feet out to avoid getting the oil on his nice pants as he covered his victim's feet, leaving them looking smooth and wet. He rubbed it in somewhat, allowing Alexander a moment of calm before the storm.

The smaller man's eyes widened at the site of a hairbrush finding its way into Thomas's hand. "I picked up a spare this morning just for you," he explained, trapping Alex's oil-drenched feet with his arm. "Any last words?"

"I'll support your dumbass plan, Jefferson! Please... Let me go," Alexander's face was bright red as he begged Jefferson- _Jefferson, _of all people- to set him free. "Whatever it is. And I won't talk for longer than ten minutes."

"How nice of you," The tickler sneered. "I'm still going to do it, though."

"WAIT, DON-" Before poor Alex's argument could fully exit his mouth, Thomas began brushing his soles relentlessly, sending Alex's head backward in a fit of laughter as he kicking and pull at the belt around his wrists. "STOHOHOHOP!" He begged uselessly as Thomas kept going for as long as he wanted.

Eventually, the older man did have pity and cease the tickling, gently tossing the hairbrush onto the desk. "Remember, Hamilton. Because it will be so much worse if you break your deal."

Alexander nodded furiously, not wanting his ticklish feet to be in Jefferson's clutches ever again. Jefferson was kind enough to take the belt restraints off his limbs, returning his own to around his waist. He picked up the hairbrush and baby oil to take with him.

"I won't mention your... excitement," Thomas smirked, eyeing the bulge in Alexander's pants. "And I shall see you tomorrow, Hamilton."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I received a request on Tumblr for a fic with Jefferson as the lee, so... here you go. (And I know the intro's really long, and I'm sorry.)**

Alexander couldn't -or maybe wouldn't- stop thinking about what Jefferson had done to him. He wanted to get back at him, but how? It's not like Jefferson would have his guard down at work or anything.

"I'm serious, Laurens; that's what happened," He explained to his friend, a light blush dusting his pale cheeks, "I know it sounds ridiculous."

"You're right," John chirped back, "It does." He heard Alex let out a sigh before he gave in. "But I believe you. Jefferson is a freak."

"So you'll help me?"

"I guess. What were you planning on?" The question was asked a bit nervously.

"...I think we need Laf. Jefferson won't trust either of us with anything."

* * *

Lafayette really wondered how he had gotten involved in this mess. He should have made a run for it when Alexander asked him for a "little favor". But he hadn't.

He knocked on the well-polished door of Jefferson's house, only to be greeted seconds later by the devil himself.

"Come on in," Thomas said warmly, allowing the Frenchman to enter. He had always been friendly to Lafayette, which made him feel a little bad about what he was there for.

"_Merci. Ça va?_" Laf tried to make a bit of small talk, hanging his coat on the wooden rack near the door.

"Not too great, actually. I laid out a plan to erase the company debt, but Hamilton can't admit when I have a good idea. He's fighting it tooth and nail," Thomas rambled on, as his favorite topic to complain about had come up, "And he'll get his way, like he always does."

Laf had zoned Thomas's bitching out after the first sentence. He waited for the garrulous man to take a breath so he could get a word in. "Sounds like you could use a massage?" He suggested, hoping his part in this mess would be over with soon.

Thomas took a moment and considered declining, but... "Ah, why not? You're a good friend."

Just like that they ended up Thomas's bedroom, with Lafayette rubbing the other man's back. He worked at the knots until he heard Thomas's breathing get more regular, at which he asked his half-asleep friend to roll over.

Thomas did so without much thought. Lafayette took the opportunity to climb off him, reaching for cuffs he knew Jefferson kept on all four corners of the bed. How he knew that... is a story for another time. He slid Thomas's left wrist into the cuff, glancing at his face to make sure he wasn't giving a "what the hell?" expression. To the Frenchman's relief, he wasn't. He took his time, working his way to each corner of the bed and restraining each of Jefferson's limbs. Thomas, still half asleep, either didn't notice or didn't care.

He noticed when he felt Laf climb off the bed. "Hey... what's going on?" He asked, looking up at his friend.

"I-I... je suis désolé," Lafayette said not so smoothly before exiting the room. Thomas had never been more confused. Was he being robbed? By Lafayette of all people?

He heard two sets of footsteps returning, and, to Thomas's utter dismay, neither of them belonged to Lafayette. "Hamilton, what are you doing?" He demanded immediately. "And why did you bring your boyfriend here?"

Alexander rolled his eyes, taking a seat on the side of the bed. He'd been looking forward to this. "Tsk. You're in no position for that kind of attitude, Jefferson," He smirked, quoting the line Jefferson had used against him. "We're just going to have some fun. Like we did in my office, remember?"

"We came to a deal that you didn't keep," Jefferson replied, trying to keep as much dignity as he could, given his current position. "And this has to be illegal on some level."

"What're you gonna do?" Alexander teased, "If you want to go report a tickle attack, I'll be happy to do the same."

John, who had remained silent, moved to sit opposite of Alexander, sitting between Thomas's shins. He was quick to remove Jefferson's socks before waiting for his best friend's cue.

"Hey, stop that!" Jefferson protested, though his limited ability to squirm proved useless in preventing it. Alexander began to unbutton the older man's shirt, smiling pleasantly.

"John, go ahead."

Upon hearing this, Laurens ran his fingers down one of Jefferson's feet, provoking a kick and a "Cut it out!" from the restrained man. John simply chuckled and started to wiggle his fingers against Jefferson's soles as Alex tormented his ribs, methodically poking and teasing.

"Y'know, Jefferson, I never thought you would be _this_ ticklish..." Alex reveled in his enemy's laughter.

Jefferson struggled against the cuffs, but, of course, they were on too well. It was only made more humiliating by the fact that Thomas had been the one to put the cuffs on the bed. "H-Hahamilton!" He forced the name out of his mouth as giggles escaped. Alexander was gentler now, lightly dragging his fingers along his belly. John's tickling had slowed also to soft scratching on his heels.

"Yes, Jefferson?"

"Stop this!"

"Never. You've earned this." With that, Alexander dugs his hands into his victim's sides, drawing a laughing fit out of the older man.

Only a full minute later did Jefferson get a reprieve from the two. Alex stopped to push Thomas's hair away from his face, pulling his shirt further away from his torso right after. "You're right, _Thomas_, this is fun." He produced an electric toothbrush from his pocket, being sure to let the trapped man catch a glimpse. "I got this just for you. Don't worry; he's got one too," Alexander teased, gesturing slightly to his partner in crime.

"Hamilton, I swear. You've made your point. Just cut it out," Jefferson started, really trying not to beg. He knew he couldn't beg, not to Hamilton.

In response, Alexander only hit the tool's switch, breaking the room's silence with its buzzing. He brought it toward Jefferson's side threateningly, satisfied with the man's sudden attempt to break out. "Aren't you into this, Jefferson? I thought you would like it." He didn't give his hostage any time to argue before he pressed it against his torso, dragging it up and down his ribs.

Jefferson spazzed, pulling on his cuffs (damn his decision to go with the high quality ones) and squirming away from the attack as much as he could. He could feel his other assailant attack his feet with his own torture instrument soon after, pushing him further into the insanity he was pretty sure he was descending into.

Alex adjusted to better hold him down. He ran the toothbrush in a spiral shape, slowly closing in on his victim's navel. He worked silently now, enjoying Jefferson's laughter. He glanced down the bed at John, who was haphazardly inching his toothbrush over Jefferson's feet: the balls, then down to his soles and around his heel.

As he felt Hamilton dig the toothbrush into his belly button, he gasped for air and hit a breaking point. "Pl-lease, Hamil-ton, I won't gehehet in y-your wahahay!" He stuttered out, fighting his shortness of breath and fits of laughter.

"What was that? Please what?" Alex teased, moving the toothbrush back down to just below the waistband of his slacks.

"Stop this! Plehehease, Alex!"

John's assault on his feet stopped, as did Alexander's on his torso. "So you're going to stay out of my way and let me do my job?"

"Yes..." Thomas muttered, suddenly exhausted and extremely embarrassed.

"Hm." Alex huffed softly before bending down to blow a raspberry on Jefferson's firm belly, eliciting a sound which was comparable to a squeal. "And you're not going to tell anyone about this?"

"Never!"

"Then thank you for your help, John." Alex smiled pleasantly, uncuffing one of the man's ankles. "I can take it from here."

John quietly exited the room, happy he was excused from Thomas's potential rage when he was freed.

Alexander finished freeing Thomas from his bed. "Don't be too mad at Laf. He didn't know exactly what we were doing. And Laurens was just doing me a favor."

"Do you have nothing better to do on a Thursday night, Hamilton?" Jefferson's attitude had returned.

Alex simply shrugged. "Eliza and the kids are out at her father's." He then dismissed that subject, picking up his toothbrush and holding it up to Jefferson. "Don't make me do this again. Because I'd be happy to."

"Good to know you're a freak as well."


End file.
